Undercloak: Part Six

by queenB

As Warren Worthington III drinks coffee out on his balcony, he can't help but notice how beautiful New York is by morning. The sun glinting off the skyscrapers creates a magical dance of light across the city, the honking horns on the streets below provide the orchestral rhythm for their waltz. Warren's never seen the city so wondrous, so full of life. The poor sap's in love and love will even make New York City, of all places, gleam like a shiny new nickel.

As the muscles in his face uncontrollably force his mouth to wear a rather goofy grin, he decides he is in the mood to cook. Something he has never willingly done since what the original X-Men will always call "The Casserole Incident". Suffice it to say, not everything is better with cheese.

Luckily Warren decides on a light breakfast of fruit and toast, and Betsy escapes from a possibly perilous situation. After somehow finding a tray in the unknown territory of the kitchen cabinet, he readies the meal for delivery, even placing a fresh white rose across the napkin. As he pauses to admire his handiwork, the door buzzer sounds harshly.

Cringing at the sharp noise, he rushes to the intercom, hoping it didn't wake Psylocke, spoiling his surprise of breakfast in bed. He presses the intercom button and is instantly greeted with: "Candygram!"

"Come on up, Hank."

"Drat, my plot is foiled yet again."

Warren sighs, 'So much for a romantic breakfast in bed.'

Moments later, Henry McCoy bounds through the door, "Hope you are decent, my friend. I've brought company."

From the stench of cigar smoke wafting in from the hallway, Warren assumes the worst. "Tell him to put that out before he comes in, okay?"

"He was plannin' on it. I know what goes 'round here and what doesn't, bub."

"Good-morning, Logan."

"Morning to ya too, Wings."

Warren refrains from rolling his eyes, deciding he is not going to let Logan's presence completely spoil his morning, though it has seriously put a damper on it. "Can I offer you two some coffee?"

"Sure thing. Black's fine."

"Hank?"

"None for me, thank you."

"So, what brings you two to the city?"

"Well," says Hank, "we could entertain a plethora of justifications, but I trust that you might see through most of them."

Wolverine coughs and mutters under his breath, "Don't give him that much credit."

Though inwardly seething, Warren lets the comment slide, but hopes Logan will come up with one more so he'll have an excuse to snap at him. "I take it Ororo asked you out here to check up on us."

"And you would be precisely right. Besides, it's been a while since I checked on my two favorite patients."

"The wings are just fine, and Betsy seems to be better. So everything's just great. Sorry you had to come so far. Maybe you should have called us instead. Did you think of that?"

"Ah, yes we did, my fellow blue-hued companion. But we know you and your churlish ways and decided we best explore the situation for ourselves, lest we become deluded into thinking things are better than they truly are."

"'Ro said ya were kinda frantic on the phone. Just count yerself lucky she waited 'til morning to tell us about it."

"Yeah, really lucky."

"So," asks Wolverine, while sipping coffee from a dainty cup, chosen purposefully by Warren as a ridiculous contrast with his 'manly' facade, "What went down last night?"

"Not much. Betsy had an episode, Gomurr dropped by and helped her with it and now everything's back to normal."

"Hmm. Gomurr?"

Warren shakes his head in affirmation.

"Where's Betsy?"

"Still in bed."

Logan nods toward the breakfast tray. "This for her?"

"Yes, it is."

He lifts the tray and quickly walks to the bedroom, before Warren can even utter a protest. Defeatedly, he turns to Hank, finally allowing his anger to surface audibly.

"Sometimes I really hate that man."

"Rest assured that the tempestuous feelings you hold toward him are far from unrequited."

Warren can't help but raise an eyebrow at Hank's comment, but quickly dismisses his befuddlement as his anger reclaims his full attention.

"I swear, he can't keep out of it, can he? I've gotten used to the fact that him and Betsy are close. Hell, I've even tried to be friendly with him for her sake. But the little bugger just gets to me. The way he comes in here acting all possessive, like I'm not good enough to take care of her."

He pauses for a breath, puts his hands in his pockets, takes them out again and glances aimlessly around the room, then continues, "If I acted like that toward Betsy, I'd be history! I don't see why she tolerates it from him. But, no. I've got to put up with him, let him push his way in, let him be her confidante. Dammit, I'm the one who should be in there with her! I'm the one who's supposed to be there for her!"

"Are you finished?"

Still fuming, Warren answers, "I guess so."

"I take it everything is not fine, then."

"It seems so, but she was waiting until she woke up to tell me the full story." He slumps over onto the counter-top in front of him, resting his head in his hands.

"Hank, last night was wonderful. She was Betsy again. It was so nice just to hold her and talk to her. Ha! Talk to her. We talked about nothing and everything, the kinds of things that people in love should talk about, you know? Not mysterious elixirs from other realities or super villains or any of that bizarre crap we've had to face lately. Just us. Talking."

"So how did this all come about?"

"It's the answer to that question that scares me."

"You dread even more paranormal activities or extra-dimensional demonic entities?"

"When are there not any?"

"I see your point."

"Mornin', Betts. Time to get up."

Logan rests the breakfast tray on a small table and sits on the edge of the bed, shaking Betsy's shoulder gently. She responds by rolling to the bed's far side and burying her head underneath a pillow.

"Come on, darlin'. It's not like ya to sleep all day. Ya normally wake up before the sun does. Betsy?"

She burrows farther under the covers and mumbles something inaudible.

"Get up. We need to talk."

Rolling back to the other side of the bed, she peeks her head out from under the blanket and mutters, "Warren... Coffee. Now." Then adds a "Please?" hoping feigned politeness will ensure the success of her request.

"I'm not Warren. But yer coffee's right here."

Suddenly awake, she sits up in the bed, hoping her choice in nighttime attire wasn't too revealing. As if anything could show more skin than what, for her, passes as a battle uniform. After deciding she doesn't need a sheet for modesty's sake, she rubs the sleep out of her eyes and takes the offered cup of coffee.

"Thank heaven you're not Warren. The sight of you made me think he fell out of the ugly tree this morning and hit every limb on the way down."

"Nice to see ya got yer sense of humor back, darlin'."

"Isn't it, though?"

"Too bad it's gotta be at my expense."

"Logan, what are you doing here?"

"Just paying a visit. Hear ya had some company last night."

"Hmm. Sure did."

"Ya mind telling me about it?"

Getting out of bed and slipping into her kimono, she leisurely sips her coffee and eyes the plate of fruit hungrily. "I don't know why I should."

"Now what's that supposed to mean?"

Psylocke takes a strawberry from her tray, notices the white rose laying across the napkin and lifts it to her nose, inhaling its delicate scent. Definitely not Logan's doing. Sitting gingerly in a nearby chair she lets her fingers drift over the flower's soft petals and grins to herself, saying to him dismissively, "Whatever you want it to, Logan."

"Don't be like that. I know how dealin' with Gomurr can be a tricky thing."

"Well, things change. Gomurr and I have an understanding now. No more riddles."

"Uh-huh, sure. I've known that wizard goin' on a long time now and ya can't trust him."

"Well, I do."

"You're setting yer self up, darlin'. I'm tellin' ya."

"So you're convinced I shouldn't turn my back on him. Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"Yep. Nail on the head."

Rising out of her seat, Betsy stands in front of Logan, who is still seated on the bed. "If he's so unworthy of anyone's trust, do you mind telling me one thing?"

"Fire away."

She leans over him, attempting to invade his personal space, doing her best to make him as uncomfortable as possible. Then asks, letting the words seep through her teeth angrily, yet mechanically, "Then why the Hell did you trust him with my life?!"

Trying his best to retain his composure, Logan responds, "Because he was yer only hope."

Backing away from him, she begins to pace the room, taking a long pause before she answers, "What gave you the right to make such a decision? How could you decide what was best for me? How could you... I can understand Warren, he does desperate things sometimes. And he didn't know what he was getting into. But you? You did!"

"I couldn't let ya die, darlin'. Sabretooth never shoulda been there in the first place. Ya shoulda never been in the middle of it. I shoulda taken him down permanently when I had the chance."

Finally raising her voice for the first time during their conversation, Betsy bellows, "Don't even blame this on your twisted sense of honor! You shouldn't have done this to me just because you felt guilty! What about me? Did you ever stop to think what I might want?!"

Logan sits dumbfounded.

"Well. Did you!?!"

After a long silence, he finally manages, "No. Guess I didn't."

"Then what the bloody Hell were you thinking!?"

"Guess I was feelin' guilty, like ya said. That and I was gonna miss ya and that it wasn't yer time to go, 'specially how ya were gettin' yer life back together. Just wanted the best for ya, darlin'. And at the time, that meant livin'. Guess I never stopped to think, to really think, 'bout what we'd been through. What ya'd been through. How ya would never want to live with some kinda burden, or gift, as I guess was how I was seein' it at the time."

Tears run in torrents down Betsy's face as she bites her lip, trying to keep her now overwhelming emotions in check, a sensation she hasn't coped with in quite some time. As Logan reaches out to give her a hug and offer his support, she lets it all go, unable to hold it back anymore. After a few minutes and even more tissues, the tears have finally stopped and Logan feels he can finally speak again.

"Something tells me this still ain't over."

Betsy sniffles as she answers, "And you'd be right. This is far from over."

"Jesus, what have I gotten ya into, darlin'?"

"I don't know. I really don't know."

"But ya think ya can trust Gomurr?"

"He told me things last night that I never thought I'd hear from him. Logan, he told me the truth. I think he feels sorry for me, in his own way."

"And maybe he does."

"So I should trust him?"

"Might be yer only choice."

"Wonderful."

"Look here." Logan gives her hand a quick, reassuring squeeze and says, "Why don't ya tell me the whole story and we'll go over it together, okay?"

"But I haven't even talked to Warren about it yet."

"Tell him later, after we've talked it out. That way ya won't worry him so much. Give ya a chance to think it out more. That boy's crazy about ya, darlin'. Just think how he's gonna react to all this? Ya can't go spillin' it all out half-baked, he'll flip. Me, I understand this crap better than he does. Hell, I might even have a solution."

"Okay, but I don't think there's a quick fix for this."

"Never know 'til ya try. And Betts?"

"Yes?"

"For what it's worth... I'm sorry."

[next part]

back to queenB's stories | Cyke and Logan archive | X-Men archive | comicfic.net